


Exclusive

by cuethe_pulse



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 16:10:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/902247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuethe_pulse/pseuds/cuethe_pulse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zoro loves Sanji, Sanji loves Zoro. Zoro wants to be exclusive, so Sanji should, too. Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exclusive

Zoro sat in the pick-up truck, toying with a pack of Marlboros, as Sanji delivered the birthday cake. He’d gotten a peek at it in the bakery while it was being boxed up—a chocolate cake shaped like a pirate’s treasure chest, decorated with little golden coins and jewels spilling out. Very extravagant, but Zoro didn’t expect anything less from an employee of _Zeff’s_. He looked out the window to watch a gaggle of children running around the front yard; he idly wondered which one was the birthday kid until he saw a long-nosed, orange-haired boy with a paper crown on his head. 

An interesting looking child, he thought to himself before glancing at the front porch, where Sanji was giving the cake to the parents. The mother accepted the box with a smile before shooting her husband a sharp, expectant look; he hurried to pull his checkbook out of his wallet. Zoro chuckled and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes as he waited. 

While he sometimes thought that Sanji should learn to drive or perhaps hire a real delivery person, he didn’t too much mind driving Sanji around. He wasn’t getting paid for it, but he was living in the other guy’s apartment without having to pay any rent, and that was better than money. The only downside was the way all the cakes made his truck smell like a giant sugary pastry. 

“All done.” 

Zoro opened his eyes and sat up as Sanji climbed into the passenger’s seat. “Back to the bakery?” he asked, handing him the pack of cigarettes and watching as slender fingers pulled one out and lit it. 

“Mm.” Sanji inhaled deeply, removed his cigarette briefly, and exhaled slowly, a stream of smoke trailing past his lips and out the partly rolled down window. “You don’t wanna go somewhere?” 

Zoro shook his head as he started the truck. “I’ve gotta get back to the carnival. The ‘World’s Strongest Man’ exhibit opens in thirty minutes.” 

“Your dedication to that freak show astounds me.” 

He shrugged. “I’ve been with them since I was seven. It’s not like I can just leave. I think Mihawk wants me to take over once he’s gone. You should understand that; it’s the same thing with you and Big Papa Zeff.” 

Sanji grimaced. “Please don’t call him that.” Scoffing, he continued, “I’m never taking over; that old man will never die. He’s like a cockroach. With facial hair.” 

“That’s gross.” 

“And you calling him ‘Big Papa Zeff’ isn’t?” They exchanged smirks and rode in silence for a bit. Sanji, fingers growing restless despite the cigarette between his lips, reached over and traced the shell of Zoro’s ear. “Hey. Pay attention to the road, okay?” 

Brow furrowing, Zoro tried to ask “What’s that supposed to mean?” But all he got out was “What’s tha—” before Sanji’s tongue slid inside his ear and the rest of the words got stuck in his throat. Body growing tense, he gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles whitened. While one hand held his cigarette, Sanji’s free one grasped Zoro’s thigh as he nibbled at Zoro’s lobe. 

Zoro gritted his teeth and tried not to get distracted. Damn, the man was insatiable. Not that he was complaining, really. Every touch of his lips, tongue, fingers was incredible. No lover had ever been able to arouse him so completely so quickly. But it wasn’t just the sex, of course. He liked the clothes Sanji wore—the hats, vests, ties, button down shirts. He liked the sound of his voice when he sang, whispered, read aloud. He liked the different ways he smelled—like chocolate, like tobacco, like strawberries, like vanilla. He liked watching him cook, dance, sleep, and…and everything. 

He was crazy about the guy. 

Sanji released him slowly when he came to a stop in front of _Zeff’s_ , warm breath lingering over Zoro’s ear for a torturous moment that was longer than necessary. “I’ll see you later,” he murmured, brushing a kiss against his cheek before climbing out of the truck. 

Zoro sighed and glared down at the erection trapped within his tight pants. He growled at it for a moment in an attempt to frighten it away, but that did nothing except make him feel pretty silly. He sighed again and concentrated on unsexy things—broccoli, the smell of hospitals, trigonometry—as he headed to the carnival. 

* * *

 “Ooh, look at the World’s Strongest Man~!” 

“Can you pick me up, World’s Strongest Man~?” 

“Of course he can~! Don’t you see all his glistening muscles~?” 

“Oh my~!” 

Rolling his eyes, Zoro wiped a towel over his bare, sweaty chest. His arms were sore; he’d done all the lifting today on his own, without the pretty-much-invisible wires that tended to hold up the heavier objects (i.e. the piano). He hadn’t needed to, but sometimes he just wanted to, mainly to give Mihawk a not-very-subtle reminder that he could. 

“Shut up.” He tossed the towel at Johnny and Yosaku before snagging a T-shirt to put on. “Which one of you is the Bearded Lady today?” 

“Well, that’s why we came to you,” Johnny said, adjusting his sunglasses. “See, I took Yosaku’s shifts last week while he was sick.” 

“But I took over for Johnny in December,” said Yosaku, “while he was visiting family for Christmas.” 

Zoro raised, lowered one shoulder nonchalantly. “Sounds like you’re even to me.” 

“Exactly,” nodded Johnny. “So that’s why we wanted to know if you’d do it today.” 

His cool answer came quickly, with no hesitation, as he left the tent: “Fuck no.” He _hated_ being the Bearded Woman. 

He heard them begin a round of Rock, Paper, Scissors as he walked away, following the smell of funnel cake and popcorn to the nearest food stall. Paula was working today, looking faintly bored as she tied a colorful scarf around her frizzy hair. She had his usual hot dog waiting for him; he nodded his thanks as he accepted it. 

“You almost lost it to the human garbage disposal over there,” she said, pointing with one elegant, manicured finger to the boy in the straw hat sitting a couple of stools away from him. 

“Oi, Luffy,” he snapped in faux-irritation. “Too busy stuffing your face to notice you’re starving everyone else?” 

“Sorry, Zoro!” Although the grin the boy was sporting said he was anything but. “We were hungry!” He said, draping an arm around the shoulders of his younger friend beside him. 

“You and Tony are always hungry,” Zoro grumbled, wiping a bit of rogue ketchup off his chin. 

“We’re growing boys,” Tony explained between mouthfuls of popcorn. “We need sustenance.” 

“Sustenance? I don’t know what that is, but it sounds good.” Luffy nodded decidedly. “Let’s have an order of sustenance!” 

Zoro wasn’t sure which was funnier—Luffy’s stupidity or the sight of Yosaku wearing a long black beard and inflatable boobs hidden beneath a rather unbecoming tube top. 

* * *

“Buggy called.” Sanji hummed pleasantly, stretching his arms out above his head for a moment while Zoro got comfortable on his lap, green head dipping down as he unbuttoned his shirt. He let one hand drop down to rest lightly at the back of Zoro’s neck, fingers brushing at the softer hair there. “He wants to see that vampire movie with you,” he continued, smiling a little when Zoro bit down gently on his collarbone. “Please tell me he at least takes off that red clown nose when you’re out in public.” 

“He doesn’t.” 

Sanji laughed, body jerking slightly as he did so, as Zoro’s mouth moved lower, toyed with his nipple. “That’s fucked up.” Zoro’s fingers slid down to unbutton, unzip his pants, and his laughter turned into more of a groan. He moved his hand down from Zoro’s neck to his ass. “You’re not tapping that, are you?” 

Zoro straightened up, pressing their groins together, and gave him A Look. A Look Sanji had seen before, but hadn’t yet been able to decipher. “Let’s move to the bedroom.” 

Sanji squeezed his ass, his smile widening at the man’s sharp intake of breath. “Sure.” 

* * *

Zoro knew Sanji was sleeping with other people. The fact that “monogamous” wasn’t in the other man’s vocabulary was something he’d known from the beginning, and that hadn’t been a problem. In the beginning. He’d had his own lovers on the side—Johnny first, then Yosaku (it amused him to no end that they were shacking up now). But he hadn’t had anyone else in a long time. He didn’t _want_ anyone else. It seemed that Sanji, however, still did. 

“Dinner tonight?” Sanji asked as he buckled his belt. 

“Yeah.” Zoro rolled onto his side to watch him get dressed. “I get paid today, so it doesn’t even have to be Burger King. It could be something as fancy as, uh, Johnny Rocket’s.” 

Sanji snorted as he tugged on a shirt. “Tempting. But I’ve got plans with someone.” 

“Oh.” Zoro felt his chest tighten, but he tried valiantly to ignore it. 

“You should go out, too.” 

He bit his tongue to keep from saying something that could possibly start a fight. He wasn’t in the mood for one. He turned back onto his stomach, burrowed his head in his pillow. He could feel Sanji’s eyes on him, but neither of them said anything until Sanji finished dressing. 

“Hey,” he said, bending down to kiss Zoro’s head. “I’ll see you when I get home, okay?” 

“Yeah,” Zoro mumbled, voice muffled. “Okay.” 

Sanji kissed him again and Zoro thought there was something in that kiss that felt a little apologetic, but he couldn’t be too sure. 

* * *

 Sanji made all kinds of cakes and various pastries and desserts at _Zeff’s_ bakery, but his specialty was wedding cakes. He sat across from two new potential customers—a tall, beautiful woman named Robin and her groom-to-be Franky—as they looked through a portfolio of previous masterpieces. 

“These are gorgeous,” Robin said, and he grinned at the compliment. “We’d be honored to have one for our wedding.” 

“Oh, no, Miss,” he assured her, reaching across the table to take her hand, “the honor is certainly all mine.” 

Robin tittered. Franky coughed. Sanji released her hand only to take out a notepad and pen as he asked, “Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking?” 

* * *

 “What are you thinking?”  Buggy knocked a cold can of beer against Zoro’s head a couple of times until he took it from him. “Sanji’s not the type to put a ring on it.” 

Zoro scowled as he popped open the can and took a swig, almost hitting the side of Mihawk’s trailer as he tilted his head back. “I don’t want a ring. I just want… _him_.” 

“How romantic,” the clown grimaced, sitting down beside him. “But you haven’t told him yet.” 

“No.” 

“Chicken.” 

“You’re bugging me, Buggy.” 

Buggy shrugged and drank. “You should just start seeing other people again. Meet someone better.” 

“There is no one better.” 

Buggy ignored this, continued. “Paula’s into you.” 

Zoro pointed to the three gold earrings that hung from his left ear. “Gay.” 

“Well, I’m sure your two fanboys would be open to a ménage a tr—” 

“ _You’re bugging me, Buggy_.”   

“You’re _both_ bugging me,” drawled a voice from the trailer window; Zoro and Buggy looked up into Mihawk’s vaguely annoyed-looking face. “Surely you two have something that _resembles_ work that you can do,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

They chugged down their beers and stood, tossing the empty cans onto the ground as they walked away. 

“The bossman wants you.” 

“Shut up or I’ll rip that stupid nose off.” 

* * *

Seven tiers, the pale blue color of a robin’s egg, decorated with pearls and delicate white roses—a cake just as elegant and exquisite as the bride-to-be herself. The groom’s cake—two feminine hands gripping a pair of balls beneath a half-erect penis—wasn’t the kind of cake Sanji made often, but he wasn’t too surprised when Franky requested it; the man looked rather eccentric. 

He’d sketched the two cakes in his notepad as the couple described them; now he idly doodled on an empty page as Patty and Carne served them slices of various cakes for taste-testing. 

“Which do you like best?” he heard Robin ask her fiancée softly. 

“Beats me,” Franky shrugged, holding still as she wiped crumbs off his chin. “They all taste good.” 

Sanji was briefly reminded of his live-in lover, who couldn’t tell pesto from marinara, but ate anything Sanji set in front of him. (Well, almost. Ironically enough, the man really didn’t have much of a sweet tooth.) 

After a moment, Sanji stopped and looked at what he’d drawn. A three tiered green cake covered in intricate swirls and curlicues, dusted in powdered sugar, topped with a little Ferris wheel. He realized, with a bit of a start, that he’d just drawn what he imagined his and Zoro’s wedding cake might look like. Hastily, he turned to a blank page and waited for his heart to stop pounding. 

His and Zoro’s _wedding_ cake. 

Where the hell had that come from? 

* * *

As evening fell, Zoro found himself working the Ferris wheel. He watched as excited children pointed out sights to their parents, as strangers sat in silence or awkward small talk, as young couples held hands or played tonsil hockey. 

 _“Hey, Zoro.”_  

He closed his eyes for a moment, assaulted by a sudden memory (only not so sudden, really, since it hit him almost every time he saw this particular ride). 

_“I want to give you something,” Sanji told him when they reached the top of the wheel.  
_

_“What?” he asked, hoping it wasn’t any more desserts; he could only stuff so much down Johnny and Yosaku’s throats before they exploded._

_Sanji held a key out between them and it took Zoro a little longer than it should’ve to understand what that meant.  
_

_“I can’t keep up with your work hours,” Sanji explained, the corner of his mouth quirking upward in what might’ve been a halted smile and what might’ve been a nervous twitch. “And you’re always sleeping over and drooling on my pillows, anyway. You might as well—”_

_“Move in?”_

_“Something like that.” Sanji waited, arching an eyebrow as Zoro did nothing. “If you want it, you better take it before I decide to toss it.”_

_“I want it,” he said quickly, a little too quickly, and he ignored the faint tinge of red that spread across his nose as he accepted the key. “I, uh—thanks.”_

_“You’re welcome,” Sanji said, voice quiet, and he leaned over to kiss him until the ride ended._  

“Hey, Zoro.”

He opened his eyes and glanced down at the boy beside him. “Hey, Tony. Where’s your other half?”

“Up there,” Tony said, pointing to one of the cars near the top of the wheel. “With Vivi.”

Zoro squinted up at their car; it looked like Luffy was singing one of his silly spur-of-the-moment sings while Vivi watched and laughed. Zoro felt a sympathetic tug at his heartstrings. The girl had such a crush on him, though Zoro couldn’t imagine why. He doubted the boy had even realized when puberty hit; he probably thought a libido was a fancy type of sandwich.

Zoro shook his head, watching as Vivi thanked him for riding with her as they stepped out of their car.

“Huh? Sure, no problem!” Luffy shot her a toothy grin before sniffing at the air, taking Tony by the arm, and pulling him away with a cry of, “I smell meat!”

Vivi sighed and Zoro put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Love hurts, kid, and it doesn’t get any better. C’mon, I’ll win you a teddy bear or something.”

* * *

“Oi.” Zoro leaned back to avoid being hit with the foamy bath water Sanji flicked at him. “Knock it off.” 

Sanji grinned, resting his arms on the sides of the tub and slinking further down into the bubbles. “Why aren’t you joining me?” 

Zoro frowned into the mirror, ran a hand over his jaw, idly wondering if he’d need to shave soon. “I’m thinking.” 

“Thinking of fucking me in the bathtub?” Sanji asked in his low Sultry Voice. 

“…Well, I am _now_.” 

Sanji chuckled, lifted a leg out of the water and wriggled his toes at him. “Come on.” 

Zoro looked at his reflection a moment longer before turning to face the other man, arms crossed over his chest. “Can we talk first?” 

“Absolutely,” Sanji said in false seriousness. “I’ll go first.” He cleared his throat, and then, “Zoro, I want you badly.” 

Zoro swallowed, considered, and uncrossed his arms. “You win.” 

Sanji laughed as Zoro, still fully clothed, stepped into the tub. He wrapped his legs around Zoro’s waist, peeling his shirt off, the action hindered as Zoro refused to stop nuzzling under his jaw. 

“Love you,” he murmured against his slick skin. 

Sanji smiled and moved his hands to cup Zoro’s face, lifting his head so he could kiss him. “I love you, too,” he whispered against his lips and rocked hard against him, making bubbles and water spill over the sides and onto the floor. 

* * *

Zoro _hated_ being the Bearded Woman. 

He stood in front of the gaggle of mostly bored but occasionally entertained spectators, wearing a thankfully longish skirt, a bushy beard, and the most incredible rack any not-woman could ever have. He was trying not to look as angry as he felt; not only did he _hate_ being the Bearded Woman, but Luffy had been by and taken a picture that he just knew was going to end up on Facebook. (He _hated_ Facebook.) 

“Kind of an ugly woman, ain’t she?” someone remarked, and Zoro rolled his eyes. Of course he was an ugly woman; even Marilyn Monroe would’ve looked less attractive with a beard. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” said a familiar voice, heavily laced with amusement. 

He tried not to glare too hard at Sanji, who was smirking around a cigarette, hands in his pockets. “I think she’s quite beautiful.” 

 _Go away or I’ll kill you in your sleep_ , Zoro’s eyes promised. 

“In fact,” Sanji continued grandly, his own eyes alight with mischief, ignoring Zoro’s silent vow and enjoying the attention of the other carnival visitors, “I think she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And I would like to marry her, so she will bear my bearded children.” 

Had Zoro perhaps been in a better mood, this would’ve made him laugh, or at least crack a smile. But since he wasn’t in a better mood, this humorous non-proposal from the man he so desperately wanted to really be his served only to irk him even more. 

“Whaddya say, gorgeous?” Sanji asked with a broad wink.   

“You’re not my type, sir,” he deadpanned in a tone he knew the other man would understand. 

Judging by the way he said nothing more—much to the crowd’s disappointment—he _did_ understand. But he was waiting in the changing tent, chewing a piece of nicotine gum (which Zoro thought was pretty silly), when Zoro finished. 

“PMS?” He asked, watching Zoro rip off his beard and toss it aside. 

“Fuck you.” 

“What?” Sanji took a faintly cautious step toward him as Zoro hastily disposed of his double-Ds. “I thought it was funny.” 

“Yeah.” He took off his shirt and skirt and caught the jeans Sanji tossed to him. “It was hilarious.” The tent was filled with silence as he turned around and dressed, except for Sanji’s chewing. He zipped up his jeans and sighed, frowning at the ground. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m a little irritated today.” 

“I couldn’t tell.” Sanji moved closer, reached out and rubbed soothingly at his shoulders. “Want me to make you feel better?” 

Scowling, Zoro shrugged his hands off. “I don’t want to fuck.” 

Sanji glared at his back; he hit him lightly so he’d turned around and the glare could be more effective. “That’s not _all_ I do.” 

Zoro glared back, snapped, “Really? Could’ve fooled me.”    

Hurt flashed through Sanji’s eyes before anger completely overtook it. “I’ll talk to you later, when you’re not being an asshole.” 

“Whatever,” Zoro muttered as Sanji left the tent in a huff. 

He _hated_ being the Bearded Woman. 

* * *

They drove out to the beach one night; they parked the truck in the lot and made out while Sid Vicious’ “My Way” played on the radio. Zoro’s hands fumbled with his seatbelt as he responded to Sanji’s kisses, lips parted wide so the man’s demanding-devouring tongue could re-explore his mouth. He pulled away when he managed to get his seatbelt undone and took a deep, steadying breath before getting out. 

Sanji followed him out onto the sand, inhaling salty sea air as he reached out to link their arms together. Zoro took comfort in the man’s touch, hopefully enough comfort to broach the subject he wanted to. “So…how was work?” ( _That_ wasn’t it.) 

Sanji snickered. “I’m gonna make a penis cake.” 

“Delicious.” 

“Indeed. What about you?” 

Zoro hesitated for a second, then shook his head. “I don’t wanna talk about work.” 

“Okay.” Sanji eyed him as Zoro tugged at his arm, bringing him down to sit on the sand. “You started it, dummy.” 

Zoro slid his arm free as he brought his knees up to his chest and frowned out at the dark waves of the water. “I wanna talk about…something else.” 

“I’m listening.” 

Zoro wrapped his arms around his knees and said nothing for a while. He had a bad, heavy feeling in his gut that this wasn’t going to go very well. Sanji lit a cigarette and didn’t prod, waiting patiently; perhaps he had a bad feeling as well. 

Finally, he stretched his legs out in front of him, placing his hands on the sand, fingers digging into it as he started, “You know I’m not seeing anyone else.” 

“Mmhm,” Sanji hummed in a Fuck-I-Know-What’s-Coming way. 

“And I know that you are,” he continued slowly. “But I wanted to ask if you would—” 

Sanji cut him off, quickly, and if Zoro hadn’t been so disappointed, he would’ve been grateful. “Zoro, I know what you’re going to ask. And I’m telling you, don’t do it, okay? You won’t like my answer.” 

“Gotcha.” Zoro narrowed his eyes at the water, vaguely wishing the waves would come up and take him and drag him under. 

“We’ve got a good thing, don’t we?” Sanji asked, scooting closer, fingers finding Zoro’s in the sand. 

“Yeah,” he said. 

And the subject was closed.

* * *

Usually, Sanji took great delight in taking out the penis mold. 

“Happy to see me?” He asked, poking the mold absentmindedly. “Hm?”   

“He’s talking to the dick again,” Patty said in a sing-song voice. 

“Talking to it helps it grow,” Carne said with a snort. 

Sanji ignored them and poked it again. 

Nothing. No delight. No mirth. He felt _nothing_. 

“Dammit, Zoro,” he grumbled. 

“I thought he named it Ace,” Carne said. 

“That was before he fell in love,” Patty said. “Isn’t that right, Mrs. Roronoa?” 

Sanji held up his middle finger as he left the mold alone and headed for the back door. “I’m going on a smoke break.” 

He went out to the alley behind the bakery, spit out his nicotine gum, and dug a cigarette out of the nearly empty pack in his pocket. He was in love with Zoro. Of course he was. He’d been in love with Zoro for months. He loved Zoro’s snores, loved the way he looked in Sanji’s bathrobe, the way he talked back to the TV screen. He loved his laugh, the cologne he wore whenever they went out to eat even if it was just to Burger King. He loved the way he kissed, how nice his hair felt under Sanji’s fingers, the ridiculous way he danced, and…and everything. 

He was crazy about the guy. 

But what if that wasn’t enough? What if just being crazy about the guy didn’t mean Zoro was The One for him? What if he wasn’t The One for Zoro? Seeing other people meant he had other options. If Zoro decided to be with someone else, fine—he had someone else, too. If Zoro decided to leave him for someone else, fine—he had a dozen people that could help him get over his slightly broken heart. But if all they had was each other and Zoro left him, he would have no one, nothing, and he would have to start all over, all alone, with no options and a completely and utterly broken heart.    

He couldn’t do it and he didn’t want to do it, but _fuck_ , it’d been so damn hard to hurt Zoro last night. He hoped the guy wasn’t taking it too hard… 

* * *

“235, 236, 237, 238…” 

Mihawk watched, lounging on his loveseat and drinking a cup of orange tea, as Zoro pumped iron in the corner of his trailer. 

“So you’re trying to kill yourself because your boyfriend dumped you?” 

“240.” Zoro grunted. “He didn’t dump me. 241. And I’m not killing myself. 242. I’m working out. 243.”   

“I see.” Mihawk sipped at his tea and graciously decided to ignore the tears that were falling from his employee’s eyes by the time he reached 300. 

* * *

There was another man’s jacket in the bedroom. 

Zoro was trying very hard not to look at it. He struggled to keep his eyes trained on the ceiling, tried to focus on the silky hair he was burying his fingers in, on the warm, wet mouth that was engulfing his arousal. Sanji sucked at him, head bobbing up and down, taking him in deep. Zoro breathed noisily through his nose and tried to push away thoughts of Sanji sucking some other guy’s cock. But the image was a persistent one. 

Grabbing at Sanji’s hair, he pulled the other man up for a hard kiss, ignoring his growl of protest at being manhandled. Pushing Sanji onto his back, Zoro straddled him and bent down, attacking the skin of his neck. Sanji arched into him, groaning, as Zoro mauled him with teeth and tongue. 

Zoro hadn’t intended on marking him, but the damage was done before he knew it. They both realized it at the same time—Zoro as he pulled away and saw the spot, and Sanji as he felt the throbbing that lingered when Zoro released him. 

“Fucker,” Sanji hissed. 

“Oi, I didn’t mean t—” 

“What, are you trying to prove something?” With a sharp twist of his hips, Sanji knocked him off and started to leave the bed, rubbing at the spot on his neck. “Idiot…” 

Zoro scowled; his hand shot out, grabbed Sanji by the arm and pulled him back down. Sanji glowered at him and tried to jerk his arm free, kicking at Zoro as the other man got closer. Zoro grunted in pain as Sanji’s foot connected with his jaw. In a burst of anger, he managed to grab hold of the man’s legs and flip him over on his stomach, climbing on top of him and pinning him down; all that working out was good for something, at least. 

“Hold still, dammit!” 

“Get off!” Sanji thrashed between him, stiffening into stillness only when he felt Zoro’s teeth bite down on the back of his neck. “Fuck— _off_!” 

Teeth marks and spots that were certain to bruise—he marked Sanji’s neck and shoulders. It was a primal urge, a desire to claim what he wanted, _needed_ to be his in front of that fucking jacket. His erection had half-softened and he attempted to revive it, thrusting against the crease in Sanji’s still boxers-covered behind, but his heart wasn’t in it. Sanji’s resistance—though the friction created felt pretty good—was more upsetting than arousing, and he finally gave up, releasing the other man and letting him kick him off the bed. 

Sanji turned over and sat up, chest heaving in anger and exertion. “What the fuck was _that_?” 

Zoro lay on his back on the carpet and glared up at the ceiling. “Whose jacket is that?” 

“What?” 

He stood up, stiffly made his way to the dresser the jacket was draped across. “ _This_ ,” he snapped, throwing it at the man on the bed. “Whose is it?” 

Sanji sighed faintly, looked at the jacket, and slowly starting folding it. “It’s Kuro’s,” he said. “What does that matter?” 

“So you’ve been fucking him _here_? In _our_ home?”   

Sanji frowned up at him harshly. “No, I’ve been fucking him here, in _my_ home,” he corrected him. “This is not _your_ home. You’re a—a guest.” 

Zoro swallowed hard, holding his sharp stare for several silent minutes before retrieving his jeans and pulling them on. Sanji watched as he went to the closet and dug around for a bit, finally pulling out his duffel bag. He walked through the room, picking up T-shirts, pants, socks, and stuffing them inside the bag. Sanji dug his fingers nervously into the material of Kuro’s jacket as he took the bag and went into the bathroom. 

“Zoro, what are you doing?” 

His cool reply sounded from the bathroom as he rooted through the medicine cabinet, “I think this guest has overstayed his welcome.” 

Sanji tossed the jacket aside and climbed off the bed, trying not to sound as panicky as he felt. “Don’t be stupid, Zoro.” 

“I’m done being stupid,” he said, brushing past him as he left the bathroom. He zipped up his bag, put it on his shoulder, and headed for the living room. “Later.” 

Sanji reached out as he walked away, grabbed the strap of his duffel bag. Zoro stopped, his back turned to him, and waited. Sanji opened his mouth to speak, to say the magic words that would erase this evening, that would make him stay. But he said nothing. With a resigned sadness settling in the bottom of his heart, he dropped his hand and followed Zoro to the front door, locking it behind him when he left. 

* * *

Mihawk, dressed in a satin robe that Zoro was almost certain was meant for a woman, arched a sharp eyebrow. “So you dumped him this time?” 

“No one’s dumping anyone! Now move over. I need to crash on your couch for a few days…” 

* * *

Luffy and Vivi approached Zoro while he was chugging down a bottle of water after a shift as the World’s StrongestMan. He eyed them over the rapidly emptying bottle, taking in the hopeful way Vivi’s hands were clasped in front of her and the way Luffy looked completely oblivious, as usual. They stood in silence while he finished; Luffy sported a big silly smile on his face, and Vivi shifted her weight from foot to foot. They obviously wanted something and Zoro wished they would just ask for it instead of acting all shy and nervous like he was the Pope or the Wonderful Wizard of Oz. 

“What?” he barked at them, crushing the water bottle and throwing it over his shoulder. 

Vivi jumped a little and took a step back, but Luffy just continued to grin. “We wanna ask you a favor!” 

“I figured as much,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “What is it?” 

“There’s a, um, meteor shower tonight,” Vivi said. “And we were wondering…” 

“If you would take us to the beach,” Luffy finished, “in your pick-up truck!” 

Zoro mentally congratulated Vivi for getting a date with Luffy, even if they did need him to tag along, although he doubted the boy saw it quite the same way as she did. 

“It’s supposed to be romantic,” Vivi said, glancing at Luffy, whose expression remained unchanged. “You could bring Sanji.” 

Zoro scoffed, fingernails digging into his arms. “Why should I bring Sanji? I could bring someone else, right? It’s not like we’re exclusive or anything.” 

Vivi’s brow furrowed in concerned confusion, but Luffy just giggled. “Okay, bring someone else!” 

“Fine, I will!” Scowling determinedly, he looked around, his eyes settling on a familiar clown juggling oranges for a small crowd of children. “Oi, Buggy!” He called. “Go out with me tonight!” 

Buggy fumbled and the oranges fell and bumped him on the head. “Are you making fun of me?!” 

Zoro rolled his eyes. “Just say yes.” 

“Yes.” 

Zoro laughed triumphantly in their faces until he realized just who he’d asked out. Gay or not, he probably would’ve been better off with Paula. 

* * *

Sanji slowly spread pale blue frosting across the fifth cake layer. The other layers, already frosted or waiting to be frosted, were laid out and cooling. In a few moments, Zeff would come in to watch him put the first three layers together for the first tier, prepared to chew him out if he made a mistake and to say nothing if he did it perfectly. 

He was exhausted. He’d dozed off at the bus stop, making him forty-five minutes late. He hadn’t slept well the past couple of nights. He’d been sleeping in a bed with the same man for months and for him to suddenly not be there… 

 _“Oi, Sanji.”_  

He blinked rapidly to keep from nodding off. He tried to push away the memory that was threatening to interrupt his work, but he was too tired and the memory was too appealing—too soft, too sweet, too comforting… 

“ _I want to tell you something,” Zoro told them as they came to stop in front of the next big tank._

 _Sanji glanced at him in the dim lighting of the Arlong Aquarium, saw the serious way he was keeping his eyes trained on the manta rays they were standing in front of. He smirked a little. “Are you talking to me or the fish?”_

_Zoro looked at him, the corner of his mouth quirking upward. They were alone—though Sanji wouldn’t have really minded even if they weren’t—and Zoro reached over and slid an arm around Sanji’s waist, tugging him close. Sanji returned the half-embrace with one arm and turned his head, hesitating just before kissing his cheek when the man spoke.  
_

_“I love you,” he said, so quietly Sanji briefly wondered if he’d imagined the words.  
_

_Sanji smiled against Zoro’s cheek, kissed it gently. “Duh. I love you, too, dummy.”  
_

_He felt Zoro relax against him and his heart fluttered. His man was so freakin’ adorable. He gave him a squeeze and they stood there, holding each other for a long while, watching the manta rays swim.  
_

“Oi, Sanji.”

He opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder to see Zeff eyeing him sternly. He looked down at the cake layer and saw that not only was it completely frosted, but he’d spread a line of frosting on the counter surface as well.

“Are you ready to make the first tier or not?” His boss asked, sounding considerably less irritated than he looked. 

Sanji bit his bottom lip and shook his head. “No. Give me a bit a longer.” He averted his eyes, attempting to escape Zeff’s scrutinizing stare, but he still found himself admitting, “I made such a mistake.”

“I know, boy,” Zeff said, voice gruff, but only because that was his way. “I’ll be back in five minutes.”

“Okay.” Sanji ran his open palm over his face and took a few deep breaths to compose himself. He couldn’t handle much of this. He’d have to call Zoro tonight.

* * *

Zoro was pleased to see that the beach was pretty much empty that evening. There was one car next the truck and as Zoro looked down the beach, he saw that it belonged to the family Sanji had made the treasure chest birthday cake for. They were standing in the ocean together, the mother and father holding their son up between them as the waves crashed against them.

As the kids went out onto the sand, Zoro and Buggy went to sit in the back of the truck with beer bottles hidden in brown paper bags. Zoro was going to need alcohol if he was going to be with Buggy, especially if the clown got handsy. (Unfortunately, it was alcohol that made him handsy. What a vicious cycle.)

He watched with amusement as Vivi pretended to be nervous about going into the water so he would hold her hands and guide her. “Young love,” he said.

“Or something like that,” Buggy muttered around the cap of his bottle before twisting it off with his teeth. “Speaking of, what’s it like shacking up with Mihawk?” 

“What do you mean ‘speaking of’…?” Zoro frowned when Buggy smirked at him. “He’s very—gay.”

“…Are you just now noticing?”

* * *

Sanji held his breath when he unlocked and opened his front door, releasing it noisily when he saw the apartment was empty. He figured it would be, but still… He kinda had this fantasy where he came home and caught Zoro packing up the rest of his stuff and he tackled him to the floor and kissed him all over until he gave in and…and they did _this_ and _that_. It seemed like his fantasy wasn’t coming true tonight. 

Sighing, he closed and locked the door and toed his shoes off. Unbuttoning his shirt on his way to the bedroom, he slipped it off and left it on the floor. He snagged a sweatshirt off the bed, one he’d taken to wearing to bed lately. It was Zoro’s—a big white sweatshirt with a black scorpion, his astrology sign. He burrowed into it, sniffed at the collar that still smelled like— 

“Fuck me, I’ve got it bad,” he muttered. 

He heard his cell phone ringing from the living room and he practically fell over his own feet in his haste to answer it. Once he got it and read the caller’s name, his excitement died rapidly. 

Kuro. 

He tossed the phone onto the couch and let it ring. 

* * *

 The meteor shower _was_ romantic. 

Squeezing Buggy’s clown nose every time he got too close, Zoro spent half his time watching the meteors shoot across the night sky, half his time watching Vivi muster up enough courage to rest her head on Luffy’s shoulder. Luffy didn’t appear to notice when she did it, but Vivi just seemed content with the contact. Zoro understood. There were times when all he had to do was sit close enough to Sanji so that their knees touched and he was happy. 

He wanted Sanji beside him. 

He wanted to take his cell phone out of the truck’s glove compartment, call Sanji, and fix this broken thing that was keeping them apart. He wanted to tell him he was fine with the other guys, wanted to demand that _he_ be the only guy, wanted to end it all; he just wanted to do _something_. 

So he opened his second beer bottle and squeezed Buggy’s nose. 

* * *

  _Beep._  

“It’s me. I want you to come home. I—” ( _I miss you_.) 

Sanji flipped his cell phone closed and just held it for a moment, as if Zoro was going to immediately listen to his message and call him back. This was pathetic. He used to be _such_ a Casanova, didn’t give a shit if someone didn’t return his call, if he didn’t see someone for three or four days. 

He never sat around moping and wearing someone’s smelly shirt, waiting for the personalized ringtone of the Village People’s “Macho Man” to play. 

* * *

The raindrops started falling as soon as the meteor shower ended. While Buggy hurried to the cab of the truck like he was going to melt (of course, his clown make-up probably _would_ melt, which is why _normal_ people didn’t go out wearing clown make-up), Zoro took his time, keeping an eye on the kids as they made their way toward the parking lot. He didn’t miss the way Vivi’s face lit up when Luffy put his straw hat on her head. Zoro couldn’t imagine that’d do much to shield her from the rain, but it was the thought that counted, and he was sure the gesture would keep Vivi happy for days. 

As they all squeezed into the cab, Zoro noticed the glove compartment was open and Buggy was looking at his cell phone. 

“Any calls?” he asked, briefly hoping that— 

“Nope,” Buggy said. “Want me to turn it off?” 

“Might as well.” 

If Sanji hadn’t called by now, he wasn’t going to. 

* * *

  _Beep_. 

“It’s me again. Look, could you at least call me back so we can talk? I—” ( _I miss you_.) 

Sanji hung up, scowling faintly. “Motherfucker,” he grumbled. “Makes me fall in love with him and feel all guilty and shit and then doesn’t even answer his phone…” 

Of course, whose fault was that? 

Sulking, he set his phone down on the coffee table, spinning it idly with one finger. He’d really fucked up. And he’d thought having other lovers would make this _easier_. Right now he didn’t want to see any of them; he didn’t want anyone but Zoro. 

Go figure. 

* * *

Buggy lived in a smallish apartment that always seemed to smell like tomatoes every time Zoro came over. 

“You really like tomatoes, huh?” 

“Are you making fun of my nose?!” 

“…What?” Zoro shook his head and sat down on the couch, turning his cell phone over and over in his hands. 

Buggy sat down beside him and they said nothing for a couple of minutes and it was all fairly awkward until Buggy asked, “So, how do you feel about knife play?” 

Then it became _very_ awkward. 

Zoro reached over and squeezed Buggy’s nose. “I need another beer.” 

He turned his phone on when Buggy went into the kitchen. Three messages. Three messages _from Sanji_. Swearing softly under his breath and throwing a glare in the direction of the kitchen, he hastily listened to them. 

* * *

 _Beep_. 

“I miss you.”

* * *

Franky’s risqué groom cake was packaged and set aside as Zeff and Sanji built a box around the pale blue wedding cake. Sanji’s movements were slow and careful—sleep or no sleep, Zoro or no Zoro, work was work and Zeff would strangle him if he messed up such a beautiful cake. 

“Do I need to call you a cab?” Zeff asked, although Sanji was almost certain he already knew the answer. 

“Yeah,” he said, stepping back to look at the finished box. “Probably.” 

Zeff nodded and started to leave to the kitchen, pausing as he opened the door and saw the man standing there, hand in mid-reach for the doorknob. Zoro’s eyes widened just slightly, as if he was afraid Zeff was going to chew him out or punt him across town. 

“Cab’s here,” he stated in a voice no more and no less gruff than usual, and walked around Zoro to the front of the shop. 

Sanji stilled for a moment before looking at the floor as he pulled out a piece of nicotine gum. Zoro watched him, sighed silently, and looked at the tall cake box. 

“How many tiers?” 

“Seven.” Sanji glanced at him, chewing steadily to calm his nerves. “You’ve got room in the cab?” 

“Yeah.” He scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully. “You’ll have to sit in the back, though,” he said, going over to the table to carefully pick up the box. “You can hold the penis cake.” 

“Great,” Sanji muttered, going to retrieve it and following Zoro out to the truck. “Hey, you—” He paused as Zoro gently set the box in the passenger’s seat before turning to look at him. “You didn’t have to do this. I didn’t even think you’d remember.” 

“It was programmed on my calendar.” 

“Right.” The corner of Sanji’s mouth quirked upward as he remembered doing that, but the hint of a smile fell away as he not-so-casually mentioned, “I—called you last night.” 

“I know,” Zoro said, giving him A Look, which Sanji was pretty sure he understood for the first time. “I went out.” 

Sanji grew tense as the Jealousy Monster slugged him right in the gut. “Oh.” ( _Fuckity fuckfuckfuck—)_  

“We should get going.” 

“—fuck.” 

“What?” 

“I said, ‘yup’.” 

* * *

The wedding was taking place in the middle of a green park that looked like something out of a modern fairytale. Lights, streamers, and balloons were strung along the path Sanji took to the gazebo where Robin was sitting in her white wedding gown, waiting for the ceremony to begin. 

“You look enchanting,” he said as he came to a stop at the bottom of the steps, hands slipping into his pockets. 

Robin lifted her sheer veil and smiled fetchingly. “Thank you. And thank you for the cake.” 

He bowed slightly at the shoulders. “Anything for a beautiful lady.” He straightened up, looked over his shoulder to watch the guests as they started to take their seats. “Franky is a very lucky man.” 

Robin’s smile widened and she glanced down at the hands in her lap, the engagement ring on her finger. “Yes, he is. And you?” she asked. “Are you lucky?” 

Sanji hesitated. Just last week, he would’ve said yes. Last week, lucky meant such a different thing to him. Being lucky had meant being good enough, hot enough, sexy enough to get laid by someone different each night of the week and coming home to the same, good-hot-sexy man who loved him. It certainly hadn’t meant something like this—a wedding, a long-lasting commitment to one person (no matter how good, hot, and sexy), a green wedding cake with a Ferris wheel on top… 

“I don’t know,” he said finally, meeting her gaze with a faint smile despite the stinging in the corners of his eyes. “I guess I’ll find out.” 

* * *

Zoro was leaning against the side of the truck when he got back, a pack of Marlboros in hand. He offered it to Sanji when he got close enough, but the other man’s hands remained in his pockets. He rocked forward and backward on the balls of his feet and said, “I want you to come home.” 

 Zoro raised, lowered one shoulder. “I thought it wasn’t my home.” 

The corner of Sanji’s mouth curved downward and he kind of really wanted to take those cigarettes. “That was such a lie and you know it. I want you to come back.” 

Zoro cracked his neck; a nervous habit. “I can’t help what I feel. I can’t stay with you and pretend to be okay with—” 

“I’m not asking you to do that anymore.” Sanji took a few steps closer, put his hands on Zoro’s shoulders. “I—You’ll be my only one.” 

Zoro kept himself from melting long enough to ask, “You sure that’s what you want?” 

Sanji lifted one hand, ran his fingers once through Zoro’s hair and nodded. “Yeah.” 

He might get his heart broken in the end, but Zoro was worth that risk.   

* * *

“So, I was thinking three tiers…” 

“Three tiers? Luffy can eat three tiers in one bite.” 

“Luffy’s not invited.” 

“Like hell he’s not—” 

“Three tiers, green frosting…” 

“ _Green_?” 

“Yes. A grassy shade of green to match the garden on your head. And a Ferris wheel on top…” 

“On top of my head?” 

“…Idiot.” 

“Well, you _were_ talking about my—” 

“ _Anyway_ , a Ferris wheel on top that rotates and lights up and plays ‘Everlasting Love’.” 

“…” 

“What?” 

“…Y’know, maybe we should see other people.” 

“Nope. Too late. You love me too much.” 

“Yeah. I guess I do.” 

“Good. I love you, too. And our future bearded children.” 

“That _was_ pretty funny.” 

“I know, gorgeous.”


End file.
